


AU's I Plan To Write

by TheOneAndOnlyMegan



Series: Jessica Jones/Trish Walker [1]
Category: Adventure Time, Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Arrow (TV 2012), Jessica Jones (TV), Scooby Doo - All Media Types, The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-27 10:51:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16701091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOneAndOnlyMegan/pseuds/TheOneAndOnlyMegan
Summary: So basically I have a couple of fics I want to write and want you guys' ideas on If you want to read them or not. I've pretty much already decided I want to write the Skye/Jemma one, but I would like your opinion on the others. Keep in mind all these fics will be written at some point, but I'll work harder on the ones you want more. Also, if you're looking for a finished fic, check out my work "Coffee Kisses" or my in progress fic "Unforgettable". Thanks, please comment down below of what you wanna see!





	1. Skye/Jemma-Highschool AU

**_Skye/Jemma  + Fitz/Trip_ **

 

**_Highschool AU_ **

 

Jemma closed the door to her locker to reveal the smiling face of her best friend, Fitz. Given the glint in his eyes Jemma knew whatever he was about to suggest she wasn’t going to like. 

 

“Sooooo….homecoming is approaching and I hear Skye doesn’t have a date  _ yet, _ you planning on changing that?” 

 

Jemma felt her cheeks heat up and she nervously glanced around the busy hallway hoping no one caught any of their conversation. “Fitz!” 

 

At the way her voice went up an octave, Fitz’s grin grew even wider, “Well?” 

 

Jemma started striding down the hallway, Fitz on her heels, to their shared history class...the class they also happened to share with Skye and Trip. Her cheeks were still burning when the classroom door came into view, “I’ll do something about my crush when you do something about yours.” 

 

Fitz laughed as he sped up to open the door for Jemma, “I was hoping you’d say that.” 

 

Jemma stared incredulously at Fitz, jaw slack, wide eyes scanning his face for any signs that he was playing a cruel, cruel,  _ cruel,  _ joke on her. “A-are, are you serious?” 

 

Fitz blushed, “Well, Trip actually asked me, but, yeah...we’re going.” He looked up at Jemma, more serious now, “And now you have to ask Skye because I don’t want to go alone. I don’t wanna say something stupid and mess things up.” There was a pleading note in his tone and the look in his eyes was nothing short of terrified. Jemma wondered how her friends had even managed to say “yes” in the first place. Just as Jemma was about to offer Fitz some form of comfort none other than-

 

“Ask Skye what?” 

 

Skye herself walked up to Jemma and Fitz. The latter latching onto Trip when he appeared around Skye, the two launching themselves into a conversation and entering the classroom not to long after. 

 

Instead of watching Fitz and his date walk away, Jemma watched Skye watch them. She couldn’t help but feel warm at the small smile she wore and wonder about the knowing glint in her eye. 

 

“Sooo, what is it you wanted to ask me?” Skye asked again, pulling Jemma out of her head with a blush. 

 

“Oh, um…” Jemma racked her brain, begging it to come up with something to get her out of her current situation. “I heard there might be a history project coming up, and sice Fitz is my usual partner, and, well, Trip is yours, I was wondering if maybe you’d like to be partners instead?” 

 

For a brief moment Jemma thought she saw disappointment flash through Skye’s eyes before it was gone and replaced with the same bubbly, infectious happiness the brunette always seemed to have.

 

“Yeah, of course! That sounds like a great idea Jems!” 

 

And that was another thing. Skye had always called Jemma by a nickname. Not Jemma, or Simmons, but something short and, Jemma couldn’t lie and say is wasn’t endearing. Skye was perhaps that only person Jemma had ever met that called her by a nickname, even Fitz called her Simmons more often than not, and Jemma couldn’t help but to admit that the new name was refreshing.  

 

Smiling as Skye walked into the classroom, taking her swapped seat next to Jemma, Jemma froze in the doorway, the full extent of what she’d just done hitting her. 

 

Because she had just asked the most popular, kind, funny, sweet,  _ beautiful _ , girl in the entire school, who she happened to have a crush for, to be her history partner, and she’d said  _ yes.  _ Jemma pinched herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming then entered her history classroom, thinking that this was both the best and worst day of her life. Because now she got to spend extra time with Skye, but she also couldn’t make herself look like a complete idiot in front of the girl. 

 

And not to mention homecoming was in about a month.    

 


	2. Jessica/Trish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this one Is actually out of a notebook I wrote in a few years ago after I first watched season 1. This is of course the modified version, but this entire fic is basically written and I just need to tweak a few things. If this were to become a fic, there would be a large part devoted to Trish and Jess when they were younger, so there's that. Also this fic would (hopefully) have a bit of humor to it.

**_Jessica/Trish_ **

  
  


“For God’s sake, Jessica!” Trish screamed, watching helplessly as Jessica stumbled before collapsing into a heap in her doorway. “What the hell happened?” Even though Trish asked with genuine curiosity, she wasn’t completely sure she wanted to know. 

 

“Trish?” Jessica croaked, “Trish I think...I think I got shot.” 

 

“Shhh,” Trish put her finger to Jessica’s lips, “Jess, please, don’t hurt yourself even more.” 

 

“Trish, this one feels...bad. This one...it...it feels real. If-if I don’t make it out of this one-” 

 

“No! Jessica Jones don’t you dare talk like that!” The pressure Trish was putting on Jessica’s wound increased and had she been anyone else, Trish would have been afraid she was going to break them.

 

“Just know-” 

 

“Jess, please,” Trish couldn’t take this,  _ wouldn’t  _ take this, even if her voice was a hoarse plea. 

 

“That-” 

 

Trish looking down at her hands that were covered in Jessica’s blood, “Please…” 

 

“I love you.” 

 

Trish felt the air rush out of her lungs and the rhythm falter in her heart before she reeled at the dizziness in her head. Those were the words. The words that Jessica Campbell Jones never, ever, ever said. But, she said them way back when, said them then, texted them there, and was saying them now. 

 

There was the time when they were kids. Trish’s golden childhood memory. 

 

There was the text message Trish refused to delete from her phone.  

 

Now there was bullet holes and blood stains Trish would be able to remove from her carpet but not her eyes. 

 

It was simple, she hadn’t emphasized any of the words, but there was a certain look in her eyes. 

 

The same look Trish saw way back when, then, there, and now. 

 

“Trish?” Jessica whispered, effectively dragging Trish back to the present.

 

“I’m calling an ambulance.”   

 

Jessica tried to sit up, which caused her to groan, then whimper when Trish gently pushed her back down, “Noooooo, you know I hate hospitals…” There was a slur to Jessica’s words that worried Trish and had her reaching for her cell that much quicker.

 

“Yes, but you do know you got shot, right?” Trish’s finger hovered over the “9” before hitting Claire’s speed dial.

 

“And stabbed, did I forget to tell you about the stabbing?” There was a lit of laughter in Jessica’s voice and Trish had to resist playfully punching her shoulder. 

 

“Jess!” 

 

“What? It wasn’t bad anyway, guy was practically wielding a toothpick.”  

 

Trish laughed despite herself, sobering when her phone answered. 

 

“Hello?” a voice that sounded  _ very  _ tired and slightly annoyed answered. 

 

“Hello, Claire? It’s Trish. Trish Walker-” 

 

“Yeah, Trish, I know who you are. Now what’s up, you sound...distressed, to say the least.” Claire deadpanned. 

 

“Jessica. It’s Jessica. She’s hurt, bad.” 

 

There was rustling and the muttering of cuss words, “Alright, what’ve we got?” 

 

Jessica coughed and got some blood on the back of Trish’s phone, “Jess! Did you really have to get blood on my phone?” 

 

Jessica rolled her eyes even though it looked like it pained her to do so, “Oh, sorry, it’s not like I’m dying over here or anything.” 

 

Trish glared, “Jess, don’t say that-” 

 

“OKAY! Trish, bring her in, if she’d coughing blood it’s probably not good. Lemma guess, knife or gun?” Claire all but yelled into the phone. 

 

“Um, both actually.” 

 

There was a deep sigh on the other end before, “Okay, get her over here.” Then something that sounded strangely like “damn superheros” before the line when blank.  

 

“C’mon Jess, let’s get you to the car, try not to get blood on my seats.” 

 

Jessica groaned, “Fine, put me in the damn trunk if you’re so fucking worried.

 

Trish tried to hold back her laughter as she dragged Jessica to the car. 

  
  
  



	3. Bonnibel/Marceline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adventure TIme's Princess Bubblegum and Marceline. Haven't read through it so, don't kill me if there's mistakes.

Bonnibel Bubblegum had just moved to New York from England to live with her eccentric uncle. Now, Bonnibel Bubblegum was not one to get nervous, however, this being her first day at school in a country not her own, she was a  _ little  _ bit  _ apprehensive _ . But just a little! Okay, so, at the moment maybe a “little bit apprehensive” was more like pacing the length of her room until she was sure there was a path in the hardwood floor. 

 

“Bonnibel?” her uncle asked from the hallway.

 

Sighing, Bonnibel sat down on the edge of her full sized bed, picking at a spot on her pink comforter. “Come in.” 

 

The door slowly creaked in an Bonnibel stared at a random spot on her newly painted light pink walls while her uncle walked into the room. He came to a stop in front of her, and though Bonnibel had seen him a lot over these past few days (obviously) today,  _ right now _ , felt like the first time she was really  _ seeing  _ him. Looking at him now, his short stature, round belly, white mustache, he looked the same as he did when she was six, the last time she’d seen him in person. And just like she remembered he still smelled like peppermint, and despite all these years he still called her “Princess” and she still called him “PB”, short for “Peppermint Butler”, the nickname her six-year old self had given him when they would play princess with her cardboard castle. 

 

“So...whaddya thinking about?” he asked, sitting down next to her. However, even when he was standing he only came to about 4’ 10”, which was a little under Bonnibel’s shoulders.  

 

Bonnibel turned to look at the wall again, focusing on a picture she’d taken with a few friends she was soon to see again. “Tomorrow.” Before her uncle could say anything, however, she continued. “It’s just been so long since I’ve seen Lady and Jake and Prismo and Lou. What if they don’t like me anymore?” When Bonnibel was twelve, Lady, Jake, Prismo, and Lou had all come abroad during a middle school trip to see how schools in other countries were run. During their month stay, Bonnibel had become close friends with Lady, and by default, Jake, Prismo, and Lou. They’d all kept in contact through letters throughout the years, however, they’d all changed a lot in the one or two years since they’d seen each other. For example, Bonnibel had learned, via a letter Lady wrote, that she and Jake got together. Which, initially Bonnibel was elated about because the two had undeniable attraction, however, she didn’t know if it would make meeting them a little awkward. 

 

Her uncle gave her a soft smile, “I think you’ll be fine Princess. Anyone who can stand your science rambles is a friend for life. Bonnibel laughed and playfully slapped her uncle’s arm, then laughed again when her pet rat, Science, squeaked upon hearing his name. 

 

“I suppose you’re right.” 

 

Her uncle nodded once, then stood, “Of course I’m right. I’m never wrong, you think you got your brains from your father?” The joke was meant to lighten the mood, however, it fell flat. “Too soon? Right, well, get some rest, Princess, you got a big day ahead of you tomorrow.” 

 

Even though it had been months since Bonnibel’s parents had died in a car crash, and even more months since she’d moved in with her uncle, talking about her parents still left Bonnibel with a hollow feeling in her gut and made her sick. Her uncle assured her they would fade eventually, but they would never fully go away. 

 

Bonnibel numbly dressed in her pink pajamas, then pulled back her covers and went to sleep.     

  
  



End file.
